


Monstrous Touch

by Ethuilriel



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Julian Devorak Route - Reversed Ending, M/M, Other, apparently the horniness and angst wires are crossed in my brain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:20:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24583687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethuilriel/pseuds/Ethuilriel
Summary: After the Reversed Ending, Julian Devorak has to relearn how to accept love and intimacy from the apprentice.“I-I’m a monstrosity, an abomination, a-a creature that taints the very fabric of existence. I-I could never despoil you like that, my love. Don’t you see? If you lie with me...”“You’re still my Julian.”His body shook with fresh sobs.“Everything in this world is strange and new, but us, our love, that’s still here.”
Relationships: Apprentice/Julian Devorak, Julian Devorak/Reader, Julian Devorak/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	Monstrous Touch

You were sheltering in one of the abandoned buildings of this new Vesuvia. Huddled in front of the fire, you took Julian's face in your hands and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. He kissed you back. Then you maneuvered yourself slowly into his lap, straddling him for a better angle. You pressed yourself against him, wrapping your arms around his neck and moving your hips against him. That was when he pulled away in a panic, shoving you off of him with uncharacteristic roughness.

“N-n-no!” he shouted, scrambling across the floor away from you, panic written across his wide-eyed face.

You apologized profusely and begged him to tell you what was wrong while he huddled in the corner, sobbing.

Once he’d calmed down enough to talk, it spilled out in a rush.

Of all the things he’d worried about in his old life, this hadn’t been one of them. Even his immense self-loathing couldn’t blind him to the fact that he was a sufficiently handsome man whose bed partners found him quite satisfying. But now? Now he was monstrous. Dangerous, even—he had talons, by Jove. No, no, no. He couldn’t touch you until he’d been cured, repaired, until he was himself again.

“Julian,” you said softly, “That...might be a long time.”

In the silence, you both understood what you meant: that might be forever.

You crawled over to sit beside him, resting a hand lightly on the space between his folded black wings.

“Of course I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do,” you said. “but I do want you, in that way.”

Another sob wracked his chest. “Oh darling, no. You don’t—you don’t understand what you’re asking.”

“What don’t I understand?”

“I-I’m a monstrosity, an abomination, a-a creature that taints the very fabric of existence. I-I could never despoil you like that, my love. Don’t you see? If you lie with me...”

“You’re still my Julian.”

His body shook with fresh sobs.

“Everything in this world is strange and new, but us, our love, that’s still here.”

You rubbed his back gently, fingers ruffling soft black feathers as he wept. Gradually, his sobs slowed.

“Besides,” you ventured, “if you’re worried about ‘despoiling’ me, I’m afraid that ship has sailed.”

He turned to look at you with a panicked expression. “What? What happened, oh, my dear, what—“

“That was a joke.” You smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t make light of this.”

“Well, ah, I suppose we did do a fair bit of...mutual despoiling, once upon a time.” A wistful smile ghosted across his face.

You sighed. “I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable. I can wait. But please—you’re not a monster to me. Please don’t think that you are.”

After that night, the two of you had at least been able to talk about it. He insisted his concerns were practical in nature—he had talons! he didn’t know the strength of his still-changing body!—and you addressed them each in turn. It became endearing, to see your rakish Julian Devorak blushing like a virgin as you planned just what you’d do together. The first time, you agreed that you would only touch yourselves, not each other, so there would be no chance he could hurt you, and that you would cover your eyes to ease his self-consciousness. That night you slept well.

The next time, he said you could watch him. You felt honored that he trusted you that much. Before, he’d been anything but shy about his body—the buttons of his shirt had seen little use, and he’d had no qualms about changing in front of you. Now, he was fastidious about keeping his trousers on around you (he’d shed his shirt long ago as it didn’t fit over his wings). Before, he’d delighted in making love in daylight, eager to see your bodies entwine, but now he sheepishly requested you wait for the cover of night.

When the time came, you could tell he was nervous. You kissed for a while but had agreed that once you took off your clothes you wouldn’t touch each other. It was agonizing: you wanted Julian to tear your clothes off and ravish you, but you pulled yourself away and undressed. He hesitated, hands fiddling with the waistband of his trousers.

“We don’t have to do this,” you said quietly. “Or, I can blindfold myself again. I don’t mind.”

“N-no. I-I want you to see me. If, ah, only if you would, in fact, enjoy that?”

You’d told him endless times that he was still beautiful, that you wanted to see him—all of him—and you told him so again.

You watched the flush on his face spread down his neck and his breath quicken. Oh, how you wanted him. You barely needed to touch yourself, the sight of his straining and panting enough. And when you felt his eyes on you? Oh. You watched each other as you climaxed, moaning each others names, a moment of joy in your strange new lives.

That night you were hopeful, more than you’d been for a while. It felt like a piece of the life you’d had before, and it made you believe you could find and collect some of the other pieces of that life.

A few nights later, as you kissed him, you whispered against his mouth, suggesting you repeat the experience. He pulled away.

“I, uh, I think perhaps not tonight.”

That was fine. There was plenty on both of your minds, the days were exhausting, and you were happy to simply have him near you. But when you brought it up another night his response was the same, and the same again another night after that, until you stopped asking.

Perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered so much, if your life held more sources of happiness—by day you journeyed through your altered world, searching for your friends and family, fighting your way past monstrous creatures and bizarre new obstacles. At night, you huddled together, sometimes with only Julian’s expansive wings as shelter. In this unpredictable world that tested your limits daily, you wanted his comforting embrace, fully and completely. The short distance between your bodies felt like a vast gulf. Of course you craved the physical act of intimacy, but what broke your heart was your understanding of his reason for this boundary: “I’m a monstrosity, an abomination, a creature that taints the very fabric of existence. I could never despoil you like that.”

One night you blurted it out. You’d been sitting in silence, staring at the small campfire you’d made in a clearing in the forest.

“If you don’t want me anymore please just tell me.”

He opened his mouth but said nothing. You felt his eyes on you, but you couldn’t meet them, staring resolutely into the flames.

You felt the lump in your throat grow to become hot stinging tears as you said quickly, “It’s alright, things have changed, I understand that. We don’t have to be...together...like that. We can just be two friendly companions, journeying together. I—I do want you, still. I love you. But if you don’t feel the same way please just tell me because I can’t go on like this.”

He was silent so long that you had to turn to look at him. You were crying freely now. When you met his gaze you saw his eyes were also gleaming with tears. He reached out a hand to you, then drew it back.

“Oh, oh, my dear, my darling, my love,” he said quietly. “Oh, of course I love you.”

“Do...you still...want me? To...lie with me? Because if something has changed and you don’t I can live with that but I need you to tell me.”

“I do,” he whispered. “I do want you, love.”

“Then prove it.” The words came out angrier than you intended.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to touch me. I want you to let me touch you. Like we used to, before...this. I know you’re different. I know your body is different and that scares you and you feel like you don’t know how to control it but I also know that you’re gentle and careful and I want you to touch me.”

Slowly, cautiously, he crept closer to you and wrapped his arms around you. You rested your head on his chest, soft feathers brushing your cheek. He sighed, your head rising and falling with his breath.

“You think you’re protecting me but you’re not,” you murmured against his chest, his bare skin warm on your lips.

“I-I,” he began shakily. “That night, when we, ah...well, when I saw you, perfect and beautiful and glorious as the first time I touched you...and then, ah, I saw myself...and I saw you looking at me, and I could never...for you to gaze at me, at this, with-with...I was corrupting you, it was simply wrong, it was...”

“It was beautiful.”

“H-h-how can you say that?” Julian sobbed, voice choked with anguish.

Together, you wept. You wrapped your arms around his waist as he held you. Your tears ran down his chest and his tears fell on your head. You clung to each other in your tiny island of firelight in this frightening, ever-changing world.

That night you slept in each other’s arms, Julian’s wings wrapped around you both.

It hurt you to hear the naked, ragged pain in his voice when he talked about himself, but you felt some relief that he’d been willing to talk. You reminded him often that you loved him and wanted him, but you knew nothing you did could heal him. He had to do that himself.

Time passed strangely. Days and nights blurred. You’d been staying in an empty villa for a while, seeking shelter from an unnatural rainstorm. You woke from a fitful sleep, Julian’s familiar warmth beside you. He was lying on his back, staring up thoughtfully at swirling forms on the painted ceiling, and as you stirred he turned to look at you. His gaze was intent and expression nervous.

“What is it?” you murmured. Something seemed to be bothering him.

He rolled on his side to face you. After a moment, he raised himself to his elbow, then leaned over to kiss you slowly. You held yourself carefully still, a little afraid of scaring him off, but he kept kissing you, deeper and more ravenously. You shivered slightly as taloned fingers grazed your side and came to rest on your waist. He pulled away and you felt familiar disappointment gather in your chest. But he kept his hand on you.

“Er, is this alright?” He glanced down. His voice was low and unsteady.

You smiled. “Yes.”

He kissed you again, raising himself to lean over you and running his hand lightly between your shoulder and hip. When a claw snagged the fabric of your shirt he froze, something like panic and despair flashing briefly over his face.

“It’s alright, Julian,” you said, untangling the stray thread as you smiled up at him.

“P-perhaps you would be so kind as to, ah, perform any t-tasks requiring fingers, at least for now?”

“What tasks would you like me to perform?” you meant it playfully, but his face fell. His mouth opened and closed helplessly. “No, no, no,” you said quickly, “it’s alright, please, what’s wrong?”

“I-I-I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do, my dear, but...” He bit his lip. “Ah, what you said...that night...I-I want that too. I want to, to touch you.” He glanced down at his hands. “Er, well, perhaps you should do the touching, my love, but the sentiment stands.”

His eyes were wide with desperation, his body frozen and taut.

“Are you sure?” you asked gently. “I know I said this is what I wanted, but I only want it if you feel good about it.”

“Yes.”

You crossed the distance between you to kiss him. He relaxed onto his back as you leaned over him. You stroked his feathers and he closed his eyes, tension ebbing from his body and a quiet moan escaping his throat. His hands fluttered to rest tentatively on your hips. Every move you made was slow, cautious, and preceded by a quiet request for permission. You watched him carefully, pausing whenever you caught a flicker of doubt on his face and resuming only once he had reassured you he was alright.

Afterward you lay in the crook of his arm, looking up at the unnaturally enchanted ceiling together. He ran the heel of his hand up and down your arm, carefully holding his claws away from your skin.

“I, ah, I suppose we should find some nail trimming scissors for me, my dear,” Julian said. You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear a faint smile in his voice.

A ghost of a laugh escaped you. “I suppose we should.”

“Trimming these blasted claws will certainly make things much easier next time.”

“It will.”


End file.
